Tyler Swar reads in Holy Redeemer Church during a school Mass.
Sentinel photo by Ed Langlois
Jack Basic has loved Holy Redeemer Church from the start. He loved it as an altar boy when it seemed majestic and holy. He even bore up bravely as a middle-aged fellow during an overzealous simplification of the interior, a re-do one wag characterized as “neo-cave man.”
And now that some shine is back and there are theologically-inspired additions, Basic, 85, loves the North Portland church especially.
“When man celebrates, he puts things on,” he explains. “Judges, brides, priests. We use things. To look at a blank wall — it isn’t Catholicism. Catholicism uses the world to point to the world beyond. We touch things. We kiss things. It doesn’t have to be cluttered, but we are incarnational.”
Holy Redeemer now has a baptismal font at the entrance, a new altar and a new ambo. The tabernacle and crucifix have been returned to a central position and statues are done in the classical style.
New lighting — along with blue and gold paint — have given the sanctuary a celestial look. The lights are brighter, but also more efficient.
Carpet has been torn up to reveal a floor of polished mosaic stone that gives music greater resonance.
Workers built a new confessional and a new choir area and added an exit so the balcony could be used. The brick exterior received a thorough tuck-pointing and sealing.
The money goal for the project was $800,000. Parishioners pledged $892,000.
Holy Cross Father Joe Corpora, the pastor, credits the overflow of contributions to the culture of generosity at the parish and the mystical blessings that follow. Each weekend, five percent of the regular collection is sent to an organization that helps poor people — projects like Blanchet House or the Holy Names Sisters’ Africa missions.
“We are grateful for how it turned out,” Father Corpora says of the restoration. “We think it looks beautiful and renewed.”
The $800,000 project was part of the parish’s and school’s centennial celebration.
Basic has been a parishioner for 81 of those years. A scholar and Renaissance man who lives four blocks from the church in his old family home, he is the son of devout Croatians who came first to Portland’s Slabtown and then to North Portland.
The church was new when the Basics arrived in 1927.
As a young man, Jack left North Portland on occasion, heading to New York to be an actor. He eventually became a speech therapist and still speaks with the crisp annunciation required by stage and classroom.
Among his favorite films are Fellini’s La Dolce Vita and Eight and a Half. His favorite author is G.K. Chesterton.
Basic is Holy Redeemer’s sacristan now, carrying out some of the same church duties he performed as a boy.
In the 1950s, stained glass windows arrived to add even more color to a church that had flair.
In 1966, inspired by calls for simplification, parish leaders took out much decoration and painted almost everything white. The aim was to give the church a feel of the catacombs, where Christianity developed.
Basic, back in New York when the 1966 renovation took place, wrote to Holy Redeemer’s Redemptorist priests to comment on what he considered a tragedy that would affect worship.
Others felt the same way. The church building was changed with “reckless abandon” explains longtime parishioner George Galati, who concedes that parish leaders back then thought they were doing what was right.
“The altar was smashed and tossed out on Williams Avenue,” says Galati, 75. “When you get rid of the old, it discards the sacrifice of those in the past. We threw the baby out with the bath water.”
Unlike the restoration of the past year, parishioners were not consulted in 1966. That is perhaps what was most painful.
“This time, we were informed about the changes that were to occur,” says Galati, longtime friend of Basic’s, an educator and former principal of Roosevelt High School. “We were given education. And the beauty complements worship. It’s not so ornate to take away from worship, but it’s no longer a big white box. The parishioners delight in this church now.”
During the work, parishioners were welcomed in to take a peek. Basic says it was a delight to develop a relationship with workers. He often complimented them on their craft.
“Because of what happened in the 1960s, older parishioners were reticent at first,” says Tom Markgraf, who led the capital campaign. Many were hurt over changes in which they had no input.
Father Corpora and Markgraf were determined not to make the same mistake. They held dozens of meetings, served food, sought advice and gave information. They say no one has expressed regret about the project.
Younger parishioners came forward generously and others followed.
Markgraf’s great-grandparents moved to the neighborhood in 1920 when the area was mostly fields and woods, with a walking path to the church. His grandfather was a contractor who built the school. He recalls old stations of the cross in the basement of the family home, purchased during the 1966 renovation by people mourning the changes.
For Markgraf, the restoration is a long overdue effort to make the church a home again.
“If our church is our home, if we are going to pray there, it is going to be easier in a place where we are comfortable,” he says. “It is a much happier, pleasant place to be now.”
Basic is exuberant about the restoration.
“It is such a gratifying thing,” he says. “I thought I never would live to see the changes.”
